


Ravenous

by Nadare



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Bisexuality, Body Horror, Confessions, Demons Are Assholes, Dream Sex, Drinking to Cope, Episode: s01e04 A Feast of Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Missing Scene, One Shot, POV John Constantine, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadare/pseuds/Nadare
Summary: Gary Lester is doomed. Before Mnemoth takes him, though, Constantine is determined to provide some comfort, even if it is short-lived.
Relationships: John Constantine & Gary Lester, John Constantine & Mary "Zed" Martin, John Constantine/Gary Lester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Ravenous

_A/N: A Goretober piece that never really fit any of my prompts._

* * *

**_“Ravenous"_ **

Gary's eyes were wide and scared as John fastened the padded straps on his feet tight enough that no matter how hard Gary bucked there was no way they'd come loose.

Without needing any prompting, Gary laid down on his back, bravely placing a hand in the right-hand strap running along the side of the bed for John. Soon Mnemoth would strip away that willingness, but for now the demon was quiet, sleeping inside Gary.

Zed had offered to help, setting up the room for them, but afraid of what would happen if she touched Gary again, John had sent her away. The pair’s empathic bond was deep enough that John feared for her sanity what exposure to a high-level demon would do should they have touched again.

“I-It'll make it bad, won’t it?” Gary asked, his voice trembling as John finished tying him down to the bed.

John had done enough lying during the last few days.

“We pissed it right off so Mnemoth won’t go quietly,” John replied honestly, taking a seat beside Gary's bedside. “Do you want to take anything before it starts?”

Though he didn’t have any hard drugs on hand, John had enough alternative options in his supplies to take the edge off anyone's consciousness, temporarily or permanently.

Gary picked up on the implication immediately, shaking his head. “I've spent enough time stoned out of my head.” He paused for a moment. “This is my penance for being such a coward back in Newcastle.”

Almost wanting to drug him up regardless, John nevertheless respected the foolhardy decision. If their positions had been reversed, John didn’t know if he would have done the same.

“Listen, mate, I'm sorry for winding you up back at the bar. I had to-"

“Tell me exactly what I wanted to hear,” Gary finished, his forehead wet with sweat. “It's fine. I'd rather it be me taking this on than some poor bastard we picked up off the street.”

John swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He'd thought of the possibility, but sacrificing a stranger hadn’t sat well with him. Consigning an old friend to such a fate was sadly old hat at this point in his life.

“I meant some of it, Gaz,” John said, putting a hand on Gary's shoulder. “You're a good friend.”

Gary's quick smile went to the core of him. “You probably think I should have had better taste, though, yeah?”

“Maybe,” John replied in a joking tone before a mad idea sprung up in the back of his mind. It probably wouldn't work, but he had to try. “Be right back.”

John went to the archives where Jasper had stored all his occult artifacts, pulling out a variety of drawers until he finally found what he was looking for. An item that was small yet powerful.

Returning to the bedroom, John pressed it into Gary's left hand, the latter closing his fist automatically, the sign of ready trust stabbing at John, reminding him how they’d gotten here.

Flashing him a reassuring grin, John laid his own hand atop Gary's. He closed his eyes and muttered an incantation under his breath. John didn’t really know the meaning of the words, but it didn’t matter. It all came down to the power and intention behind them.

Within seconds, the air crackled with energy, raising the hair on the back of his neck. The building magical pressure snapped with an audible pop and John opened his eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief at the sight that greeted him.

Instead of the millhouse and the spare bedroom where Gary had been placed, they stood in a plain white room, empty space for miles around them.

“What is this?” Gary asked, seeing he was no longer tied down, the skin on his face unmarked.

John smiled. “I gave you a religious relic, a tooth from St. Jude himself, the patron saint of lost causes so you could have a bit of calm before the storm, as it were. Bloody glad it worked.

“The only limit here is your imagination.”

Gary closed his eyes and John watched their surroundings change into a posh hotel room, down to the expensive mint lying on the pillow. Two champagne glasses, already poured, sat a table nearby, a beautiful sunset looming on the horizon outside the windows.

“I like your style,” John said, grabbing some champagne for himself. He wouldn’t feel the effects outside the illusion, but while he was under, it would be real enough.

Gary snatched his own glass and clanged it against John's before coming to sit at the edge of the bed. He nearly downed the champagne in one gulp.

He coughed lightly, then peered at John, his gaze soft. “John, you know why I always followed you around, right?”

“No doubt it was my charming personality and razor wit,” John quipped, wondering where Gary was going with the subject.

“Aye, you had all that,” replied Gary with a chuckle. “But there was this aura around you that just attracted people no matter what their background. I was no exception and I think maybe you always knew on some level that I-"

John held up a hand. “Hold on, mate. No need to say anything you'll regret.”

Shaking his head, Gary put aside his champagne glass. “No, if I don’t say it now, I never will.” He took a deep breath, his gaze pinning John to his chair. “I love you, Constantine, bastard that you are. You never really looked my way after the whole mess with Anne Marie, but I always hoped.”

Gary sniffed. “Stupid, huh? I know I never had a chance with you.”

When a single tear fell down Gary's cheek, John had had enough.

Letting the glass he was holding fall to the floor, John leaned forward. He put one hand on the back of Gary’s neck, thinking his friend had never looked so vulnerable. Or hopeful as John hovered closer, his breath mixing with Gary’s. 

Closing the distance between them, John kissed him, wishing for the thousandth time that Newcastle hadn’t ruined everything. If Astra’s exorcism had been successful, so many things would be different.

Gary made what sounded like a whimper and clutched at him, his soft lips moving under John's, giving as good as he got. He was so earnest in his desires that John began to wonder why he’d never seen Gary as more than a set of wheels and a fat wallet.

Breaking away as his heart began to pound, John bit off a laugh. He’d had no idea Gary was a good kisser. “Listen, I don’t know how long this enchantment is going to last before Mnemoth awakes,” he warned, neither of them moving away from each other.

“I don’t care,” Gary replied, putting his forehead against John's. “Just stay with me.”

John smirked. “Your wish is my command.”

Gary had been right earlier. John had always seen him as a sort of puppy that loped after him with a wagging tail, always eager to please. But here at Gary's worst hour, he wasn’t about to callously abandon him.

True, Gary had started the whole mess, but it had been John leading him as a sacrificial lamb straight inside the lion’s mouth. If a tumble in the metaphorical sheets was what Gary wanted as payment, John could easily provide that.

Gary's hands went straight for his waist, pulling up the ends of John's shirt. He skirted his fingers over John's hips and stomach, Gary's grasp dipping into the hem of John's pants, making him start.

Impressed at the boldness on Gary’s part, John reminded him lightly, “You’re in charge here, remember?” 

Gary glanced up at him with a question in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“If you want to be.”

“Generous of you,” Gary replied, moving into place above him as John settled on the bed, the pillows soft against the back of his head.

Somehow, Gary looked different, his cagey demeanor fading, a rising fire in his eyes that John hadn’t seen since first meeting him so long ago. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was about to die that finally had given Gary the push he needed to take what he wanted.

“Well, look at you,” John said, reaching out and laying a hand on the hardness that he spied against the front of Gary's jeans. “Raring to go, huh?”

“This is my last chance,” Gary replied. “I don’t want to let it go to waste.” He unzipped John's pants, yanking them and his briefs off John completely. Peering down at his lower half, Gary raised an eyebrow. “You seem a bit eager yourself.”

John lifted his arms and laced them around Gary's neck, pulling him closer. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

It'd be too long since he'd been with another man, all the Rising Darkness shite a major distraction in the libido department. Compared to unraveling that never-ending mystery, sex was a simple matter no matter what gender he was in bed with.

He moaned when Gary touched him gently, his fingers growing hot on John’s sensitive skin, a coil of tension soon forming in the pit of his stomach.

Gary leaned forward, nibbling at John's neck as he worked his hand, slowly but surely driving John to distraction. He bit down hard in one spot on his collarbone, sending a shudder down John's spine, a gasp dropping from his lips.

The area overly sensitive, John squirmed as Gary blew on it before moving down his chest, quickly proving that he had experience in pleasing those of the same sex.

Those deft fingers and tongue were a force to be reckoned with, John more than happy to simply lay back and enjoy it while it lasted.

At the sudden feel of slick fingers rubbing down below, John’s breath hitched in anticipation of what was to come.

“Mind over matter, right?” Gary said, the questing fingers inside John quickly finding their target. The jolt of near electric bliss was fleeting but powerful, John moaning when Gary teased him again, setting a dangerous precedent.

All too soon, John’s control was frayed, and he grasped Gary’s wrist, stilling his movements.

“Enough,” he breathed, Gary’s pleased smile striking him at his core. Instantly, John was glad he’d been able to fulfill his last request.

Removing his hand, Gary pressed closer, his grip tight on John’s hips. He was lining things up, giving John a moment to breathe before-

Gary slowly thrust forward, the length of him sinking inside John, filling him nearly completely.

Tensing up a little, Gary’s face gone soft with satisfaction, John let out a few breaths, letting any leftover tension in his body go, the brief discomfort immediately easing.

“All right?” Gary asked, touching John’s arm, looking concerned.

John laughed shakily. “Bloody right I am.” He tapped Gary’s shoulder. “Now move.” 

Gary took him at his word, slowly at first, then he found a steady rhythm, John panting at the pleasure that seared across his nerves with each thrust.

He hadn’t bottomed in a while but appreciated the long line of Gary’s body against his as he moved, his mouth slightly open as he breathed raggedly.

John laid his hands upon Gary's back, feeling the muscles move underneath his fingers, all the effort on Gary's part to make him feel good. The heat and bliss that rubbed at John from within were immense, keeping his mind about him difficult.

“John,” Gary breathed, looking up at him warmly, even as he gathered John into his arms as well as he could. “This is…” There was desperation and fear in his body language as he put his head down on John's shoulder, his pace faltering for a moment.

“I know, Gaz,” John panted. “It’s a lot.”

Gary seemed to rebound, things becoming sweet and torturous, every time John thought he’d finish, Gary would slow down just enough for the pressure in the pit of John’s stomach and below to ease. Then Gary started again and John was lost.

He thought it would go on forever until Gary's hips jerked against him once, twice, John digging in his fingernails on Gary's back, groaning as his finish was suddenly upon him, his mind blanking out as he shuddered underneath Gary.

Gary's body went limp, collapsing atop John, his breath a wild thing in John's ear.

Panting himself, John managed a few laughs in between breaths. “Where were you hiding that, Gaz?”

Gary chuckled. “You’re not the only man of mystery, John.”

He was pleasantly numb, gratified in a way that surprised him. There had been a deeper emotional connection between them that had added to the proceedings, making them that much richer.

John realized with a start that he was genuinely fond of Gary before a crushing sense of loss crept in with the knowledge that they could never make a proper go of it.

As soon as the fabric of the illusion crumpled with Mnemoth's awakening, Gary was lost to him, prey to a demon's unending hunger.

It wasn’t fair.

“John?”

Looking up into Gary's face, John put his hand against Gary's cheek, summoning a smile despite the ever-encroaching grief inside him. “I'm going to miss you, Gaz, I really am.”

He leaned up, kissing Gary lightly. It was a bittersweet moment that made John's chest ache.

Gary broke off first, the start of tears in his eyes. “Thanks for giving me a chan-“

Everything went black, John violently slammed back into his body in the real world as Gary started howling on the bed beside him, his head thrown back, the veins in his neck strained. The bit of relic he'd been holding clattered to the floor.

John automatically grabbed Gary's hand, clutching it tightly, hoping in the grips of his agony Gary could feel it. It was the very least John could do.

“Using a piece of a venerated saint to copulate with another man,” Manny said before him, standing with his hands held behind his back. “I don’t know if Heaven would approve.”

John dragged his eyes off Gary, telling himself the wetness in his eyes was out of anger at the situation and not the stirrings of guilt and grief. “It wouldn’t have bloody worked if they didn’t, would it?”

“True.” Manny crouched down. “Or maybe those upstairs recognize the need to provide solace to those in pain.”

John huffed out a breath. “Whatever the case, Gary appreciated it.” Though they hadn’t done it in reality, John’s body was still tired, aching in certain places.

“I wasn’t talking about only him, John.”

Going quiet, John’s gaze went back to Gary who bucked against his restraints, slowly grinding the bones in John’s hand to dust.

Every scream, whimper, and yell tore at John’s heart.

The silent accusation in Manny’s eyes as he watched over the whole sordid ordeal was unneeded. John already felt bad enough as it was.

Though Gary had agreed to taking on the hunger demon and accepting a fate worse than death, John knew the blame laid solely at his feet.

Even before he had met John, Gary had been desperate to please, throwing his father’s money around recklessly, so miserable with his identity that Gary latched onto whoever gave him the time of day.

Worse still, once he’d met John and discovered the whole magic scene, Gary had no idea he’d set himself on the path to doom. He was so happy to have a group of friends to call his own.

John had taken advantage of Gary’s naivety and kindness to a fault, so self-absorbed in his own life that he didn’t care what he was doing. He did so much damage to everyone around him by simply existing.

He saw it every day in Chas, turned freak of nature by accident, unable to die until he’d reached a certain number of deaths. Driven to use his extra lives to make a difference, yet losing his own family in the process.

Zed, too, wasn’t immune, her powers forcing her to see all matter of human and evil corruption, unable to turn away from it. She was running from something, always elusive about her past, but John wondered at times if Zed was really better off with him.

John wasn’t exempt from his own machinations, from the knowledge he was damned, his sins weighing heavy on his shoulders. His nightmares of young Astra screaming as she was dragged ahead of him to Hell, her fingers scratching at his arms desperately.

Gary bellowed, drawing John from his reverie, his body jerking wildly on the bed, the restraints holding firm.

He tried to imagine what it felt like, the hunger demon testing its limits inside Gary, gradually realizing that there was nowhere to go. That Mnemoth would have to consume its host and ultimately itself in the end.

There was a delicious sense of irony in that Mnemoth would be its own last meal.

What wasn’t pleasant was knowing Gary’s body was being broken down in increments, Mnemoth drawing every bit of meat and liquid out it could. Being unable to do anything about it, forced to be a helpless witness.

Seconds turned into minutes into hours.

Gary soon lost his voice, which just made things worse, the creaking of the metal bed the only sound in the room as Gary continued to strain against his bonds. 

His skin cracked around John’s hand, little to no moisture left in Gary’s body. And still he mutely screamed with cracked lips and wide bright eyes that nearly popped out of his skull. At least his teeth remained intact thanks to the folded leather strap John had placed between his lips.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Manny had stopped watching Gary, his gaze fixed solely on John as if he expected him to somehow pull an easy fix out of his arse.

John had run out of options when he’d found out there had to be a sacrifice to stop Mnemoth. When he knew he wouldn’t be the one to do it.

He was a selfish bastard, not ready to consign himself to Hell yet. No, John wanted to run from his fate as long as he could and make the demon that owned his soul work for his prize. He’d have to take John down below kicking and screaming with blood running down his face.

“I'm surprised at you, John,” Manny said calmly. “How dedicated you are to your friends even when you manipulate them to take their own lives solely to impress you.”

John narrowed his eyes. “No one deserves this, no one.” There was a hollow cracking sound and Gary’s chest sunk inward, his ribcage compromised. “I have to watch it happen so if anyone asks me what the hell happened to Gary Lester, I can say he went out bravely and on his own terms.”

“Loyal only to the dead then.”

He couldn’t deny the truth of Manny’s statement, avoiding the angel’s gaze, uncomfortable that Manny had been able to peg him down like that despite not knowing John long. Of course having access to those above likely helped. 

The longer Gary’s torment went on, the colder John felt inside. In a way, something like this had been inevitable. Gary had always been a disaster area since Newcastle and this time his luck had run out. 

“He’s gone,” Manny suddenly announced in the strained silence.

Numbly, John realized Gary was completely still, the heartbeat that had pounded so loud against John's hand finally silent.

Dreading what he'd see, John turned to Gary who looked as if he'd been mummified, his eyeballs a shriveled decayed mess. Gary’s clothing dwarfed him, his body only skin and bones against the mattress. 

Mnemoth was no more.

Gary was dead, finally free of his earthly bonds.

He pulled his hand away from Gary’s, then used the sheet at the bottom of the bed to cover up his friend’s body. 

Too tired to contemplate thoughts of a funeral, John patted the end of the bed frame. “No way you could take care of this for me then?” he asked off-handedly.

John wasn’t at all surprised to see Manny had left him to his misery when he wasn’t looking. At least he’d stayed through the important part, keeping John company.

“I need a damn drink. Lots of them,” John muttered under his breath as he flexed his fingers, the phantom sensation of Gary's harsh grip still on him even now.

Once that faded, John wouldn’t have anything but memories to remind him of Gary's existence.

Upon entering the main room of the mill, John went straight for the liquor cabinet.

He didn’t bother with a glass, drinking the scotch straight from the bottle, the liquor burning its way down his throat and settling warm into John's belly.

He was down one friend again, another of the Newcastle crew biting the dust. At the rate they were going, John wasn’t sure how exactly any of them had managed to survive so long. Least of all him, not with the risks he took almost daily.

If Gary hadn’t met John all those years ago, he'd probably be happy and well somewhere in England. Instead, he was lying cold and forgotten in the millhouse, his sacrifice unknown to anyone outside its walls.

“Cheers, Gaz,” John said quietly, raising the scotch bottle in the air. “I hope you ended somewhere better.”

This was the price others paid to know John Constantine.

But none more dearly than John because unlike those who wised up and left him while they could, John couldn’t escape himself. Not unlike what Gary had just gone through, he was trapped, being gradually eaten alive by his own inner nature.

And one day he would stand alone, out of willing pawns to sacrifice, unable to avoid his just desserts.

There was a subtle click from far behind him, then footsteps. Chas wasn’t due back for another day so it could only be-

“Zed,” John said, glancing at her as she came up the couch. Already he could feel the effects of the scotch, his vision going fuzzy for a moment. He made an effort to focus, to read the subtle distaste in her expression.

As much as they had fought when John had brought Gary back to the mill, Zed seemed resigned now. 

“It’s too late, the deed is done.”

Zed took a seat beside him, her shoulders stiff. “It’s a shame,” she said gently. “I liked Gary.”

John’s grip tightened on the liquor bottle sitting in his lap. “Yeah, me too.” He could hear the catch in his voice, the bitterness within the rough tone.

Zed watched him from the corner of her eye before reaching out and taking John’s hand, a silent comforting presence that stayed with him long into the night.


End file.
